Sunshine, Daisies, Butter Mellow
by outwittingsquirrels
Summary: Quite a bit darker than the title suggests. Sirius gets an unexpected - and unwelcome - visitor in Azkaban.


**Disclaimer: **me? Own Harry Potter? I wish.

It's a dark evening, cold even in August. Quickly, with a nervous gait, a small man approaches the heavy wooden doors of the fortress. He steels himself and knocks on the doors, careful to keep his left hand hidden in his pocket. He's barely half the height of the intimidating doors. Immediately, one of the doors creaks open just enough for him to enter. He does so, greeted inside by a stooping, grey-haired man who fixes him with a mistrusting glare.

'What's your business here?' he demands.

The small man clears his throat anxiously. 'I'm here to visit someone.'

The older man chuckles derisively. 'That's pretty clear - who?'

'Sirius Black.'

The guard raises an eyebrow in surprise but doesn't question the visitor, instead taking out a large book and opening it. It makes a soft thudding sound against the dusty desk.

'Your name?' the guard questions.

The other man glances around anxiously before answering. 'John Underwood.'

The guard's expression becomes more disbelieving but he doesn't comment; that's not his job. It's not his problem if some nut job wants to visit a madman and refuses to give his proper name after all. He just has to search them for all magical items and take their wand for the duration of their visit.

Ten minutes later, Underwood is struggling up the steps to the top-security wards, led by the older man who is faring much better against the numerous flights of stairs. Eventually the guard stops, prompting much relief in Underwood who, it must be said, is a little on the large side. A key is produced. A strange, vaguely sinister looking key, which the guard uses to unlock a dark metal door. The moment the door is unlocked, a rush of cold air comes out to meet them. Underwood shivers but the guard seems unaffected.

'Can I speak to him in private?' Underwood asks, his eyes darting around the place, terrified.

The guard nods slowly. 'I'll be waiting out here. The Dementors will retreat as soon as you enter.'

Underwood doesn't look all that trusting of the guard's assertion but shuffles down the corridor. He attempts to avoid looking at the prisoners in their cells to his right, pressing against the opposite wall as much as he possibly can. He was told that Black is kept in the very last cell of this ward and so keeps his head down until he reaches that one. He finally does and tries to summon the courage to look up at the prisoner.

It's Black who speaks first.

'Who are you?' he asks in a hoarse whisper.

Underwood sags slightly with relief; his disguise was successful. If even Sirius can't recognise him, then the guard certainly can't either. Underwood raises his head and has to suppress a gasp at Black's appearance. When he had known the man, he'd been widely regarded the best looking of his friends, tall, perfect hair that never failed to look good, reasonably strong, with laughing grey eyes. None of that remains. His hair is matted and filthy, he's obviously weak, his eyes look almost dead. Underwood has to swallow hard before continuing. He ignores the question, instead beginning on the explanation he came to give.

'I just want to apologise to you - and I know that's bloody ridiculous in itself. I did it 'cause I was scared. I didn't mean any harm to anyone. I'm just very, very sorry Padfoot.'

'Y- you,' Sirius says in a strangled voice, hands gripping the bars of his cell tight enough to be painful. 'Wh-what are you doing here?'

'I came here to- to apologise,' Underwood says weakly, shrinking back. He slowly takes his left hand out of his pocket, revealing that he lacks an index finger.

'Peter Pettigrew,' Sirius spits into his face. Underwood - no, Pettigrew - flinches as if his name is an insult.

'You- you can just _walk in here_-' Sirius stops abruptly, unable to continue. He's trembling with fury.

'I- I-… Padfoot-'

'_Don't you dare call me that.'_

'I just came here to- to say I'm sorry-'

'If you were really fucking sorry you'd turn yourself into the Ministry,' Sirius corrects, his expression livid.

'I can't!' Peter squeaks, looking terrified.

'You killed Lily and James,' Sirius hisses. 'You made Harry an orphan, you destroyed Remus's life and you landed me in here. And you expect me to forgive you?'

'No!' Peter denies fearfully, Sirius's rage all the more terrifying now that he's on the receiving end of it. He knows too that he fully deserves it and that only makes it worse.

Sirius stares at him for a long moment, neither of them say a word. The muttering, whispers and occasional screams of the other prisoners seem to magnify tenfold in volume. Finally, Sirius turns away, facing the wall of which he knows there is another man on the other side.

'Lads,' he calls out to his fellow prisoners, suppressing a shiver that these cruel people are his 'fellow' anything. A tense silence falls upon the ward, everyone there curious for what the innocent madman has to say. For if he can manage to stay so quiet, so apparently sane throughout the day, then he must surely be mad. And they've all heard his desperate screaming at night, his proclamations of innocence. Besides, most of the people there know who really betrayed the Potters. Most of them were present at the time.

'This man here - this piece of filth here - is the reason why most of you are wasting away in this hellhole,' Sirius declares, shooting a look of venom at Peter who shudders. Sirius allows a vindictive smirk to grace his haunted face. Another second of silence elapses before the others start answering him.

'Who is it?'

'He's no one - Black's mad-'

'Yes Lestrange, you'd be a great judge of that, wouldn't you?'

'Shut your mouth Dolohov.'

'Who the hell is it Black?'

'Alastor Moody is the reason I'm here…'

'Shut up!' Sirius roars. Suffocating silence returns and Peter blanches. 'This man is a traitor. He betrayed his best friends, people who trusted him with their lives, and the life of their child.'

'Swine,' someone mutters, though he obviously has no idea that the friends who were betrayed were the Potters.

Sirius glances at Peter to see him cowering back into a corner. 'And this man betrayed his master too. Your master. The master he went running to when his friends could no longer protect him. And now he's too afraid to even help that master. He was Sorted as a Gryffindor, but he was too frightened to save his friends. And now he's too frightened to even stand by the master he chose over those friends. He's lower even than you bastards. Because at least you believe something. This man is nothing. He's a rat. He's Peter Pettigrew.'

The silence that ensues is deafening. Peter closes his eyes and asks himself why he came at all. Why? But then he's distracted from that question by the outraged howls of twenty furious Death Eaters.

Sirius settles back to lean against the wall. He feels no triumph, no satisfaction in terrifying this traitor. It's of no use. Pettigrew's still free and he's still imprisoned in hell, with no hope of escape. Lily and James are still dead and Remus still thinks him the traitor. And his godson thinks the same if he thinks of Sirius at all. Sirius wouldn't be surprised if Harry wasn't told a thing about him.

'Sirius-'

'Get the fuck out of here,' Sirius says, his voice low and shaking. 'You don't deserve even my forgiveness.'

Peter stares at Sirius for a short moment, slowly nodding. Before he leaves, he says one more thing to his former friend. 'I really never meant for you to end up here…'

Sirius glares after his retreating back, and slides down to a heap on the floor. Defeated. He knows now that he will spend the rest of his life in this tiny, cold, stone cell, forever tormented by the memories of what he has done. Sentenced to the fate that should have awaited Pettigrew. He wraps his arms over his head and grasps his hair in his sore fingers in a vain attempt to lessen the Dementors' effect on him.

They're coming back, he knows. He has to savour these few moments that they're gone. He tries to block out the promises of revenge from Death Eaters nearly as furious with Pettigrew as himself . Then Sirius notices the air becoming colder. His vision starts to darken and he realises with dread that there's a black cloak drifting to a stop outside his cell.

'Nooo,' Sirius moans, tumbling into memories he wants desperately to forget.

Peter Pettigrew stumbles down the corridor, the taunts and threats of the prisoners ringing in his ears. After what seems like an age, he comes to the metal door, which opens at his touch. The guard is there waiting for him.

'Finished, Mr Underwood?' he asks, frowning slightly at the shrieks of the prisoners.

'All done,' Peter forces a smile and begins to head down the stairs.

_____________

'Ron have you found Scabbers yet?' Molly calls up the stairs to her son. He is starting at Hogwarts in the morning and Molly has to ensure that he's ready now so there'll be no last minute rush in the morning. Of course there will be, but it's nice to go to bed hoping there won't.

'Yeah I found him about an hour ago,' Ron shouts down the stairs. 'He was outside!'

'What was he doing there?'

'Dunno, Fred and George probably did it,' Ron says, blaming his older brothers as usual. Molly nods and returns to the kitchen.

'Hey!' two voices yell in unison. Two identical heads pop out of their bedroom door.

'We didn't steal Scabbers!' George says indignantly.

'Yeah, we have much better things to be doing with our time,' Fred adds.

'But, if you want to make your rat a little more interesting…'

'We know the _perfect _spell.'

'It'll turn him yellow,' George grins.

'Really? _Brilliant_!'

_AN: right, it's not the most likely scenario in the world but it just popped into my head and I had to write it. Reviews are love :)_


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